Chapter 113. Beyond Justice
The old van jolted with every pothole, emitting creaking groans. Inside, dimness prevailed, permeated by the musty smell of mold and engine oil. Harry sat, shoulder to shoulder with Ron, metal handcuffs digging into their wrists. Ron scowled, fixating his gaze on the floor as if trying to bore a hole in it. Hermione sobbed, wiping tears with the back of her hand. Okabe and Kurisu whispered to each other, occasionally casting wary glances around.
The van carried them further away from London, the city that had recently become a battlefield. Despair clawed at Harry's soul. Just a few days ago, they had harbored hope, managing to escape the besieged metropolis. They had even found temporary refuge. But the Death Eaters had discovered their trail and swooped down like vultures. In an instant, Hagrid had been brought down by a flash of red light, and they themselves were bound by dark magic.
Where were Jeanne and Tesla now? Had the brave allies managed to withstand the enemy onslaught? And formidable Grom, the fiery members of the Order of the Phoenix? A bitter lump formed in Harry's throat. It seemed that Voldemort had finally achieved his goal - seizing power, and the dark times had fully descended. But what tormented him the most was the thought of the mysterious Ellen Frankenstein, whom he and Dudley were supposed to protect at the Prime Minister's orders. Where had this girl gone?
"Hey, Potter!" one of the escorts called out, grinning. "Still hoping your servant buddies will come and save you? Stop deluding yourself! They're all dead, like the last strays!"
"Yeah, and we finished off this tramp and the girl too!" boasted another Death Eater.
"Although her sniveling gave some heat. We expected her to start bawling right away," added a third, smirking.
They burst into laughter together, their voices echoing through the van.
Harry's vision darkened. Had the Ainzburne family, who offered them an alliance, also been destroyed? Destroyed by these bastards without a trace of remorse? Dull pain throbbed in his temples. He trembled with fury and hatred.
The van continued its journey, carrying the prisoners further into Voldemort's clutches. Each jarring turn of the road reverberated heavily in the hearts of the captives, bringing them closer to their inevitable doom.
Suddenly, the van screeched to a halt, jolting the prisoners. The old gates creaked open, and before them loomed the somber edifice of the Malfoy Manor.
"Welcome, Potter!" a familiar cold voice resounded.
From behind a column, Lord Voldemort himself stepped out, wearing a mocking smirk. Standing next to the Dark Lord was... Ellen?! Harry gasped, unable to believe his eyes.
But upon closer examination, he realized that she was not the girl they were supposed to protect. It was not her. Ice cold gaze, black dress, haughty posture. Something subtly changed in her appearance.
"Surprise, Potter," Voldemort chuckled, noticing Harry's confusion. "Allow me to introduce your new Ellen. And as for the previous one... well, let's just say we got rid of the outdated model."
Harry felt the ground slip from beneath his feet. Could it be that all this time Ellen had been on the side of the enemy? But how?! He was horrified, surveying the sorrowful faces of his friends: Ron, Hermione, and Okabe, who held the trembling Kurisu close. Was this truly the end?
Ellen... or whoever she was, regarded them with a disdainful gaze and spoke in a cold tone, nothing like before:
"I suppose you were expecting someone else? Sadly, that girl took too long to join the worthy ones. So we had to... make room for me."
Harsh intonations, a daring gaze, and a haughty posture - it was all so foreign to the Ellen they knew. Harry couldn't believe his eyes or ears. He opened his mouth to protest, but the words caught in his throat.
"Traitor!" burst out Ron, his face contorted with anger. "All this time, you were on that scum's side?!"
"How could you, Ellen?!" Cedric shook his head in shock. "We trusted you, and you..."
Ellen... or whatever her name was now, only smirked at them, her disdainful gaze undeterred by their furious accusations.
"Oh, my dears," she sneered mockingly. "I simply opened my eyes to the true order of things. Lord Voldemort showed me the path to true power and might. Why should I continue to languish in the company of pathetic failures?"
She cast a contemptuous look at Harry and the others.
"But you will never understand. You're too weak to see the truth."
Voldemort smirked with satisfaction, placing a hand on his new accomplice's shoulder. Harry clenched his fists, trembling with barely contained rage. Ron's lips curled in disgust, and Cedric lowered his head darkly. Ellen's betrayal struck them to the core.
The gloomy half-darkness of the Malfoy Manor's basement induced a numbing stillness. The silence was broken only by the crackling of torches, casting ominous shadows on the mold-covered walls. The air was thick with stagnant, damp decay. Harry felt a chill run down his spine as he noticed a group of Death Eaters led by Bellatrix Lestrange. Her pale face, sharp features, and mad eyes exuded madness.
In the dark and damp basement of Malfoy Manor, among the other prisoners, stood a young man with long dark hair, brown eyes, and pale, almost waxen skin. His delicate features were contorted with horror as he stared at something out of their line of sight. Behind him, the figures of Death Eaters lurked in the shadows, ready to attack at any moment. With a hunter's keen eye, Harry noticed marks on the young man's arm, remnants of the Dark Mark. So, he too was a Master who had lost his Servant... like Ron.
Sinister shadows flickered across the young man's face, cast by the flames of the torches. His expensive clothes were dirtied, and his hands visibly trembled.
"Well, little Potter," Bellatrix sang mockingly. "You're about to witness how we have fun with mudbloods and blood traitors!"
With a wave of her wand, she pushed forward a wheelchair, in which sat a frightened young girl.
"Fiore Forvedge from the Yggdmillennia magical clan."
Her large blue eyes widened in terror as Bellatrix roughly jabbed her chest with the tip of her wand.
"I didn't quite like you, girl," Lestrange hissed through her teeth, leaning in close to Fiore's face. The girl froze but then responded with a hostile gaze.
"I'm not fond of you either, old witch."
Bellatrix burst into laughter, throwing her head back. Her laughter echoed off the vaulted walls. Still laughing, she grabbed Fiore by the shoulders and flung her out of the wheelchair onto the cold stone floor. The girl let out a plaintive scream, futilely scratching at the stones in an attempt to soften her fall.
Bellatrix turned away indifferently, refusing to witness Fiore falling in a heap on the floor, where she lay motionless. Harry held his breath, his heart pounding furiously. For a moment, it seemed to him that the poor girl had broken her neck. But after a second, Fiore stirred and attempted to roll onto her side, futilely struggling in the puddle of light from the nearest torch. With a harrowing horror, Harry suddenly realized that the wheelchair was not just a prop, and she was indeed paralyzed from the waist down and unable to walk.
A couple of seconds passed in dead silence. Fiore let out a plaintive groan, attempting to assume a sitting position, but failing in her feeble efforts.
"What, the Yggdmillennia degenerates can't even heal one of their most promising witches?!" Bellatrix screeched mockingly, kicking Fiore with her boot.
"Touch her again, you crazy bitch!" Caules roared furiously, breaking free from the escorts' grasp. "I'll turn you into a bloody puddle..."
Bellatrix's face contorted with rage. She swiftly turned around and struck Caules with the Cruciatus Curse, subjecting him to the agonizing torments of the Unforgivable Curse. Fiore trembled, witnessing her brother Caules writhing in pain under the weight of the curse. She knew, in her weakened state, she couldn't help him, and despair gripped her heart. Bellatrix smirked, relishing Caules's suffering. She knew that Fiore lacked the strength to resist her and decided to exert even more pressure.
"Look at your dear brother writhing in agony! You pitiful offspring of Yggdmillennia thought you could stand against the might of the Dark Lord? How naïve of you!"
Tears of helplessness streamed down Fiore's cheeks as she watched Caules's suffering. She prayed for someone to come and save them from this dreadful fate. But no one came.
Bellatrix, however, remained unyielding. Without even sparing a glance at the suffering Caules, she waved her wand, aiming directly at him. With a cruel smirk, she incanted spells, cutting him off from any means of defense.
"Silencio! Petrificus Totalus!"
Caules collapsed lifelessly onto the cold stone floor of the basement, paralyzed by the powerful spell. His body grew rigid, his face contorted in a mask of helpless fury and animalistic terror. Death Eaters gathered around him, including the malevolent Bellatrix Lestrange. She leaned over Caules's motionless figure, bringing her face dangerously close, so he could feel her putrid breath.
In the dark underground, amid Voldemort's eerie followers, tension filled the air. In a corner, Harry, Ron, and Hermione sat, watching the unfolding scene. The dim light of the torches emphasized the gloomy atmosphere that pervaded this place of horror and despair.
Bellatrix's malicious laughter echoed through the room, throwing her head back. She knew that Fiore lacked the strength to resist her, and she decided to apply even more pressure.
"Watch, little puppy, and I'll show you what happens to those fools who defy Bellatrix Lestrange," she said, slowly running the tip of her wand along his cheek.
Straightening up, Bellatrix opened her mouth soundlessly, her mad eyes blazing, and she bellowed with the full force of her lungs:
"Crucio!"
A crimson beam of indescribable agony struck Fiore directly. She let out another plaintive scream and convulsed, but clenching her jaw, she managed to stifle the cry of pain. Only towards the end of the curse did a muffled moan escape her chest, and tears streamed down her cheeks.
"Oh-ho-ho, seems like it's not hurting you much, is it?" Bellatrix smirked with feigned disappointment. "Looks like I'll have to put in some extra effort."
"No, please, stop!" Harry exclaimed desperately, making a lunge towards her, but he received a harsh blow to the ribs from a nearby Death Eater.
Bellatrix simply burst into laughter in response to his plea. Her maniacal laughter reverberated through the vaulted ceilings of the basement.
"Enough, you say? Potter, we've only just begun!" She waved her wand. "Crucio Maximus!"
Unimaginable, inhuman torment descended upon defenseless Fiore. Her body convulsed in unimaginable agony, and screams of pain shattered the silence of the basement. Harry watched in horror and despair as a rage built up inside him, threatening to burst out.
"Enough!" he roared, attempting to break free from the Death Eater's grip, but a dozen more hands immediately seized him from different directions.
When Fiore's cries subsided, Bellatrix approached her lifeless form sprawled on the floor and peered into her face. Fiore was broken, her spirit crushed under the weight of unbearable pain. Her eyes grew glassy, and her body went limp, resembling a pliable doll. But a vein on her neck continued to pulse, her chest rose and fell rapidly, and her pupils narrowed, forming a hostile glare.
"Crucio!" Bellatrix sneered, and a crimson beam struck Fiore directly in the chest.
The girl convulsed once again in horrifying spasms, her agonized scream echoing through the basement. Tears streamed down her face, and her features contorted with the torment she endured. Harry felt a surge of compassion and powerless rage. A pale, dark-haired boy, breaking free from the Death Eaters' grasp, rushed towards Fiore. But Bellatrix sneered with malice.
"Weaver Velvet! Want a closer look? Avada Kedavra!"
She waved her wand, and Weaver fell lifeless. Bellatrix looked at her wand in confusion.
"Oops, my mistake," she smirked.
"Stop, you sadistic maniac!" he shouted, feeling tears of helplessness welling up.
"Enough, Bella," a suave voice suddenly interjected. Bellatrix immediately lowered her wand and stepped aside with a bow. From the shadows that enveloped the basement, a tall figure emerged - Voldemort. His grimace was a horrifying parody of a smile.
"Harry, Harry... always such a noble boy. Do you pity this insignificant cripple?" Voldemort approached closely, staring into Harry's eyes with his snake-like pupils. "Very well then... Transmogrifico Tortura!"
Previously, Harry had only heard about this dreadful Transmogrification Torture curse from the pompous Professor Lockon, a peacock in peacock feathers, whom he had never taken seriously. He hadn't paid attention to the confusion that those words had caused among the teachers at that time, and even the wise Dumbledore had wisely remained silent. But now...
Fiore's limbs elongated, twisted, and contorted in unimaginable directions. Her skin changed its texture, color, and structure - at times turning into gray pebbles, then becoming rough sand, then glistening like a diamond. Her appearance shifted every second, in an unpredictable manner, causing inhuman agony. Fiore screamed so piercingly and painfully that Harry's heart sank, and tears of horror and compassion streamed down his cheeks.
"You... scum!" he croaked through a lump in his throat, but no one could hear him.
Only the insane laughter of Voldemort and Bellatrix echoed off the walls, drowning out Fiore's tortured cries.
"This is what you call a witch?" Bellatrix jeered, looking disdainfully at Fiore's disfigured body, unrecognizable in its state. "But well, I think we've played enough... Avada Kedavra!"
A flash of deadly green light momentarily illuminated the basement with a blinding burst. Fiore slumped on the floor, releasing a final soundless breath. Her contorted body regained its human form, and her open, glassy eyes stared lifelessly into nothingness.
"No-o-o!" an inhuman scream of horror and pain erupted from Harry's chest, blending with the hysterical laughter of Bellatrix and the other Death Eaters.
"Finite!" Bellatrix ordered, pointing her wand at Caules.
Caules, choking on sobs, fell to his knees beside his sister's lifeless body, holding her close.
"My... good... Fiore..." he whispered through tears. "Little sister... forgive me... forgive me, Fiore!" His voice broke into a cry as he embraced her one last time. "It's my fault, Fiore! It's all my fault..."
Each word, each breath pierced his soul, reopening wounds that had previously remained hidden. Despair and sadness distorted his features, mingled with fear of losing the only person he had always considered his stronghold and protection.
His cries tore through the air, filling the room with the sounds of despair and pain. In that moment, he felt as if the world had collapsed, depriving him of his last shred of hope and happiness. Images of the past floated before his eyes - joyful moments with Fiore, their childhood, their shared laughter... and now it was all dust in an ocean of pain and grief.
Standing at a distance, Harry didn't know all of his emotions, but he mentally shared in his grief.
"Avada Kedavra!" Bellatrix shouted, but her hands trembled, and she missed her mark. Looking at Caules with disgust, she kicked him as hard as she could. He fell to the floor, hitting his head, and went silent.
Voldemort licked his lips with satisfaction and whispered hissingly, "Death is mercy, Potter. Soon, you will beg me to end your suffering."
In the eerie semi-darkness of the dungeon, Voldemort strolled leisurely in front of the bound prisoners. His serpentine eyes burned with triumphant fire and intense hatred.
"Look at these pitiful blood traitors and rejects," he gestured towards the Weasleys and the other prisoners. "They are lower than dirt, unworthy of even the lowest existence. But I am generous; I will gift them death. Slow... Excruciating... Unforgettable..."
Voldemort raised his hand, and crimson clusters of energy swirled around him, resembling glowing embers. The Death Eaters stepped back, laughing, creating a clear space around the victims.
"What is this?" Harry murmured in horror, feeling the searing heat emanating from the diabolical power. "No, not this!"
"Oh yes, Potter..." Voldemort's eyes blazed with triumph. "Welcome to Hell!"
Voldemort's maniacal laughter echoed through the vaulted ceilings as the ferocious inferno ignited around Mrs. Weasley. Her horror-filled gaze locked onto Harry before her body instantly crumpled, turning into a tiny ball of fiery ash that scattered into bloody dust.
"You thought... you were special?" Voldemort hissed, staring into Harry's eyes with his snake-like pupils. "How wrong you were... Transmogrifico Tortura!"
Previously, Harry had only heard about this dreadful Transmogrification Torture curse from the pompous Professor Lockon, a peacock in peacock feathers, whom he had never taken seriously. He hadn't paid attention to how the teachers reacted to those words, and even Dumbledore wisely remained silent. But now...
Fiore's limbs stretched, twisted, and compressed in unimaginable ways. Her skin changed texture, color, and structure - turning into gray pebbles, rough sand, or shimmering like a diamond. Her appearance shifted every second, in an unpredictable manner, causing inhuman agony. Fiore screamed so piercingly and painfully that Harry's soul shrank, and tears of horror and compassion poured from his eyes.
"You... scum!" he croaked through a lump in his throat, but no one could hear him.
Only Voldemort and Bellatrix's insane laughter echoed off the walls, drowning out Fiore's tormented cries.
"This is what you call a witch?" Bellatrix sneered, disdainfully eyeing Fiore's disfigured...
A flash of deadly green light momentarily illuminated the basement with a blinding burst. Fiore slumped on the floor, releasing a final soundless breath. Her contorted body regained its human form, and her open, glassy eyes stared lifelessly into nothingness.
"No-o-o!" an inhuman scream of horror and pain erupted from Harry's chest, blending with the hysterical laughter of Bellatrix and the other Death Eaters.
"Finite!" Bellatrix ordered, pointing her wand at Caules.
Caules, choking on sobs, fell to his knees beside his sister's lifeless body, holding her close.
"My... good... Fiore..." he whispered through tears. "Little sister... forgive me... forgive me, Fiore!" His voice broke into a cry as he embraced her one last time. "It's my fault, Fiore! It's all my fault..."
Each word, each breath pierced his soul, reopening wounds that had previously remained hidden. Despair and sadness distorted his features, mingled with fear of losing the only person he had always considered his stronghold and protection.
His cries tore through the air, filling the room with the sounds of despair and pain. In that moment, he felt as if the world had collapsed, depriving him of his last shred of hope and happiness. Images of the past floated before his eyes - joyful moments with Fiore, their childhood, their shared laughter... and now it was all dust in an ocean of pain and grief.
Standing at a distance, Harry didn't know all of his emotions, but he mentally shared in his grief.
"Avada Kedavra!" Bellatrix shouted, but her hands trembled, and she missed her mark. Looking at Caules with disgust, she kicked him as hard as she could. He fell to the floor, hitting his head, and went silent.
Voldemort licked his lips with satisfaction and whispered hissingly, "Death is mercy, Potter. Soon, you will beg me to end your suffering."
In the eerie semi-darkness of the dungeon, Voldemort strolled leisurely in front of the bound prisoners. His serpentine eyes burned with triumphant fire and intense hatred.
"Look at these pitiful blood traitors and rejects," he gestured towards the Weasleys and the other prisoners. "They are lower than dirt, unworthy of even the lowest existence. But I am generous; I will gift them death. Slow... Excruciating... Unforgettable..."
Voldemort raised his hand, and crimson clusters of energy swirled around him, resembling glowing embers. The Death Eaters stepped back, laughing, creating a clear space around the victims.
"What is this?" Harry murmured in horror, feeling the searing heat emanating from the diabolical power. "No, not this!"
"Oh yes, Potter..." Voldemort's eyes blazed with triumph. "Welcome to Hell!"
Voldemort's malicious laughter reverberated through the vaulted ceilings as the ferocious inferno flared up around Mrs. Weasley. Her gaze, full of horror, locked onto Harry before her body instantly crumpled, transforming into a tiny ball of fiery ash that scattered into bloody dust.
"What, Potter, did you think you were special?" Voldemort hissed, revealing his serpentine-like face. "Did you think your pathetic friends would save you? Well, behold how I will kill them one by one!"
The wand soared into the air, engulfing Ritsuku in flames. His scream was cut short, unable to escape his lips, as the inferno consumed him completely. Ron, Hermione - they suffered the same fate. The flames devoured their bodies, leaving no trace or ashes behind. Mash disappeared immediately after her master, dispersing into countless bright sparks. Cedric and Sirius, who had thrown themselves in front of Harry to shield him, crumbled into dust the next moment.
"No! Enough, please!" Harry cried, choking on tears. "Kill me, but spare them!"
Voldemort laughed in his face, and the walls of the chamber trembled with his mad, bone-chilling laughter.
"You know, Potter," he exhaled, when his laughter subsided a bit, "our impeccable Servants have triumphed over your precious Jeanne d'Arc Alter. And you know what's the most amusing? She was betrayed by those very people she trusted unconditionally! Just like they betrayed you..."
He paused, relishing the despair reflected on Harry's face.
"And you know whose name that foolish girl screamed before her death? Yours, Potter! How does it feel, huh? The servant of your best friend - and suddenly she calls out for you in her final breath... Isn't it ironic?"
Voldemort stepped closer to Harry, overwhelmed by grief, and touched his cheek with the tip of his wand, wiping away the trail of tears.
"Filthy blood... Disgusting... But soon there will be no one left to shed it. Crucio Maximus!"
A new wave of pain crashed over Harry with the force of a storm. His screams merged with the laughter of the Death Eaters, creating a cacophony of agony.
Voldemort's gaze skimmed over the faces of the prisoners and came to rest on Kurisu.
"Now, it's your turn, Muggle girl," he extended his wand, "Avada Kedavra!"
"No! Not her!" Okabe rushed forward, but his movements froze in an instant when the green flash of Avada Kedavra struck Kurisu.
Something snapped in Rintaro's eyes. Pain and despair flared up brightly - and extinguished, giving way to cold, ruthless determination. He straightened abruptly, his lips pressed into a thin line. His eyes turned into two icy lakes. With a swift, honed movement, Okabe broke free from his restraints and before anyone could react, he fiercely struck Voldemort in the face with his fist.
"Potter, catch!" he shouted, intercepting the fallen Dark Lord's wand and throwing it to Harry, who had been freed. His voice was as cold as steel. "Finish this bastard! I will send you back in time - you must fix all of this!"
Harry caught the wand with a deft movement. Resolve blazed in his eyes. He didn't understand what Okabe had planned, but he felt that this was their last chance. And he had to seize it, no matter the cost.
Silently, Suzuha Amane rushed into the basement of the Malfoy Manor, clutching two submachine guns in her hands. Her movements were swift and precise, resembling a deadly dance.
Suzuha incapacitated three Death Eaters in a matter of seconds, striking their vulnerable points, leaving Harry puzzled as to how they had been knocked out. Then she opened fire, expertly aiming at the remaining enemies. The Death Eaters began to hide and erect magical barriers, but Suzuha was an unparalleled soldier - every bullet found its mark, and one by one, the Death Eaters fell lifelessly.
At that moment, Narcissa Malfoy entered the basement, her wand held low. With a sharp flick, she disarmed Bellatrix Lestrange, and with another graceful movement, she immobilized several more Death Eaters.
"Stupefy!" her cold voice sounded, and the enemies, one by one, found themselves paralyzed
Suzuha and Narcissa complemented each other perfectly - the former unleashing ruthless automatic fire, while the latter restrained the enemies with magical charms. Soon, there was not a single conscious Death Eater left in the basement.
"Quick! Follow me!" commanded Narcissa.
Escaping the basement, they ran behind Narcissa through the maze-like corridors of Malfoy Manor. Cries of incoming Death Eaters echoed behind them.
"Wait for us here!" Narcissa shouted, veering into one of the rooms. Harry and Okabe froze in anxious anticipation.
Suddenly, a radiant protective barrier appeared near the door - the work of Narcissa. Soon, the corridor was flooded with Death Eaters, but their spells simply bounced off the powerful shield.
"What is she doing?!" Bellatrix cursed, just regaining her senses after being immobilized by her sister's spell.
The corridor became congested as Death Eaters piled up, but from around the corner, Suzuha emerged in a wheel chair, wielding a peculiar weapon in her hands. The signature on the gun read "FG-9000," and someone had scribbled a small letter "b" in messy handwriting.
"Take this, you bastards!" she shouted furiously and pulled the trigger. The thunderous blast made everyone's eardrums tremble.
Thousands of glowing needles erupted from the barrel of the peculiar device, showering the entire corridor with shimmering facets. The Death Eaters collapsed onto each other with screams, pierced by the unseen weapon.
"Oh, you..." Bellatrix managed to gasp, staring into the barrel of the gun, but immediately crumbled from the stunning point-blank shot.
Caught off guard, the Death Eaters panicked and retreated, their cries of pain and terror echoing through the corridor. The floor was littered with bodies and wounded, turning the once clean passage into a bloody massacre.
Suzuha continued to rain fire upon the crowd of enemies, her shots ripping through the air like thunderclaps. It seemed that nothing could stop her deadly assault.
"Now, let's go!" Narcissa waved her wand, dispelling the protective cocoon around the group. They finally made their way out of the ill-fated manor to freedom.
When they reached the boundary of the estate, Narcissa looked back.
"Run away from here as fast as you can," she ordered. "This is an order."
"And what about you?" Harry asked.
"I will hold them off as long as I can," she answered grimly. "And you, fix everything."
Her words lingered in Harry's mind as they journeyed through the forest.
Their long path led them to the heart of the dense woods. Before them stood a peculiar structure, vaguely resembling illustrations of the Russian space station "Mir" from astronomy textbooks. It looked like one of the modules from the former station, made of matte metal and adorned with solar panels, placed here in the middle of the dense forest.
Harry looked at this strange installation with puzzlement. From one perspective, it resembled a massive anthill, bristling with antennas and covered in wires. On closer inspection, he noticed numerous windows, through which glimmers of monitors could be seen.
Without waiting for questions, Okabe pulled Harry inside through a massive hatch. They found themselves in a cramped compartment, adorned on all sides with blinking control panels, illuminated screens with scrolling lines of code, and rows of keyboards. The air buzzed with the electronic hum of instruments.
"Take these," unexpectedly Okabe handed Harry a pair of regular headphones. Harry took them in his hands, puzzled.
"I'm not in the mood right now..." he began.
"And I'm not suggesting listening to music," Okabe interrupted sharply.
"And what?" Harry asked, perplexed, as he examined the offered headphones.
"Can you hear it?" Instead of answering, Okabe sharpened his ears, listening intently.
At first, Harry didn't catch anything unusual, only the rustling of the wind in the branches and the faint hum of instruments around them. But suddenly, distant rumblings reached his consciousness - as if multiple explosions, one after another, were fiercely approaching from the direction of the abandoned forest they had left behind.
"What's happening there?" Harry frowned, turning to Okabe.
The latter simply shook his head grimly. "Nothing good. There's no time."
Okabe swiftly ran his fingers across the keyboard, entering a few lines of code. Then he turned back to Harry, giving him an intense look.
"When you meet me... in the past, tell me everything that happened here. If I seem too clueless and don't understand - explain it to Kurisu. She's a smart girl, she'll grasp it all."
The rumblings grew closer, accompanied by tremors under their feet. Okabe hastily put the headphones on Harry's ears.
"Okabe..." Harry looked at his friend with bitterness. "But Kurisu..."
"She's dead," he choked, clenching his teeth. "I know that! But not then..."
"Wait, what did you want to..."
Harry didn't finish his sentence. In that moment, a deafening explosion erupted outside. Chunks of earth and clouds of dirt and dust soared into the air. The apparatus shook as if struck by a colossal wave of heat. Harry instinctively ducked, covering his head with his hands.
When he opened his eyes, he found himself in the vacuum of an infinitely contracting space. The walls of the compartment had vanished, as had the control panels, the illuminated screens with scrolling lines of code, and the thousands of lights and wires. Nothing remained except for the pulsating flow of time, rushing through the chronosphere.
Harry felt himself being twisted into infinity. Not only did the physical world around him contract, but he himself, along with his consciousness, contracted as well. His body fused into a single point, and the vector of his soul splintered into singular fragments. Yet, at the same time, incredible expanses of intertime unfolded before his gaze.
Giant rivers of history, composed of trillions of fates, flowed in parallel channels. Their waves, sometimes flashing with bright events, then fading into a leaden hue of mundanity, soaring to cosmic heights, then descending into unfathomable depths, washed over the boundless expanse of the Great Hour.
Harry himself became a drop in this majestic ocean, allowing the colossal masses of information to pass through him, absorbing all the knowledge of the past, present, and future. Universes flared and extinguished in his mind, civilizations were born and died.
Time travel proved to be a truly apocalyptic experience, completely shattering all the foundations of the familiar world. Harry didn't know how long it lasted - a moment or an eternity. It felt like a little more - and his being would disintegrate into primordial atoms...